Oh, Just Die, You Dumb Bug

Yeah, insects are becoming an issue.  After being afraid of a big ant that wouldn't die and having to change bathrooms to shower because of a lazy damn bug, there was another damn bug, a small beetle-looking idiot, that found itself at the top of my bathroom sink (this was about a week ago) and then sauntered on down just short of the drain (this was maybe Saturday or Friday).

It obviously wasn't a problem while it was hanging up on top.  But now that it was near the bottom, I wasn't able to wash my damn hands.  I opened a trickle a couple times just so it wouldn't drown, and some other times I just skipped washing my hands.  But I tried, man, I really tried to get it to leave the basin by holding an envelope of those, um, floss toothpicks (you know what I mean, right?) out for it to latch onto.  I feel bad that one time it may have gotten its front legs on it and I jerked the envelope away too fast, so it tumbled back into the basin.  Otherwise, it would just avoid the thing like the plague.  I need to use the sink, dammit!

Yesterday/Sunday I kind of had enough.  I opened the faucet a couple times to the point where I may have drowned it.  Then, after I burned my thumb carrying a pan of bread that just got done in the toaster oven, I went back to the bathroom to cool off my hand.  I may have forgotten about that insect, but frankly, I was more worried about putting my thumb under water.  And so I turned the faucet on all the way, and yep, clumsy, cruel me saw the small, dumb thing disappear down the drain.

Maybe I should've given it more of a chance.  And hell, if this beetle is anything like that ant, it'll crawl up the drain and scare the shit out of me.  But frankly, I've had it rearranging my human time to accommodate this lazy and/or dumb bug.  God made a hierarchy for a reason.

Go Ahead And Take The Shower, Mr. Insect

On Sunday I was using my bathroom to shower when the thing I thought was a speck of dust started moving.  The damn thing was fighting for its life while all I wanted to do was take a damn shower.  So I stopped the water ... and Lord help me, I went downstairs to shower so this thing (which I think was a spider, I never did look closely) could have the bathtub all to itself.  Still can't believe I did such a thing.

Later that night I checked up on it.  It was all lifeless, like it drowned in the water anyway.  And then I checked the bathtub just now.  It's gone.  Its body couldn't have just decomposed and magically went down the drain, so like that damn ant, it's still alive -- and now knows it has the run of the upstairs bathroom.  Might as well give it the whole house, too, bleepin' Christ. ...

Great, Now The Ant Is Going To Kill Me Because I Can't Kill The Ant

So I finally got around to washing my dishes when I saw a big ant trying to swim and/or not drown in the water in a dirty dish I hadn't yet cleaned.  (Mental note: Wash dishes more often.)  I stared at it as it was thrashing to and fro, deciding what to do.  It's a big ant, and I'm scared that if it doesn't die -- or if I don't kill it -- it'll summon other big ants to God knows where.

I finally decided to show it some mercy by pouring the water out of the dish.  But just as I did it, the ant curled into a ball and just stayed there.  Guess it drowned or its lungs burst from all the water (do ants have lungs?) so I used my sponge to scrape it into the garbage.

I'm trying to finish the rest of the dishes when, just to make sure, I look back into the garbage can.  And goddamn, I see that ant is alive, looking at a way to get out of the garbage.  I need to kill it, but with what?  I decided to get the broom from the pantry and shove it into the garbage can.  (For the record, I had just changed bags.  The only thing I put into it is the wrapping from a Chobani yogurt cup.)  I jam that broom hard, really hard, all over the bag ... but the ant is still alive.  I should have just put my foot through the garbage can, and the ant, but I'm too scared to kill that way.

The next step is bug spray.  I go downstairs, find one Father bought that works on fleas (we don't have fleas, he probably got it on sale), and I spray the entire plastic bag inside the garbage can with that fucking spray.  Guess what?  It's still alive.  I'm dealing with the fucking Terminator ant here.  And now the house has that sickly fragrant smell of bug spray wafting all over.  I had to open the windows and turn on the stove vent just to ventilate the smell.

At this point I don't know what to do.  I decide fuck it, I know there's nothing in it except a Chobani wrapper and the ant, but I'm chucking this into the garbage bin outside.  So I unlock the door, open the lid, and slide out the empty plastic bag into the bin.

I know that infernal fucking thing is still alive.  I threw in a garbage bag full of things that big ant can subsist on, like a banana peel.  He'll get strong from that peel, manage to climb up the side of the bin, get out, find his way back inside, come up to my room, and kill me.  He'll fucking kill me because I was too chickenshit scared to kill it.

Goddammit, what I didn't I just crush that fucking thing with my bare hands when I had the chance?!

Two Moths

Over the past week or so, I think I saw not one but two moths in my car.  Don't know how they got there, but they were resting at the top of a side window.  One of them I touched to make sure it was dead, but it was very much alive.  Alas, I don't know where either moth is now.  Maybe they're dead in the car.  Maybe they somehow flew out of it.

Just want to note that here.  Have never seen that before.  Not even one moth, not just two.

Product Review: Sawyer Products 20% Picaridin Insect Repellent

I bought this for the same reason I buy many things for which I want only "the best": It was recommended by The Wirecutter.  You may have heard that DEET is the active ingredient you want to look for when buying bug spray, but this site says that another chemical, picaridin, is better; it's just as effective at warding off biting insects but isn't as messy or smelly.  Or at least I've been told; I haven't used any DEET in a long time, but if I recall correctly, using DEET wasn't a huge hindrance.

That being said, the Sawyer is, I think, really effective.  I cannot remember any time I've been bitten while having this product on me.  My big drawback is the bottle it comes in.  It is extremely leaky.  When I got the package through Amazon, it already had repellent leaking out of the top of the cap.  And it was completely screwed on.  Also, you get two caps for each of the two bottles they send you, one that fits over the other.  That would ensure that it doesn't leak through the top and all over the place, but if the bottle were better, you wouldn't need two caps, would you?

And beyond that, it doesn't matter how much you try and stop the leaking through the top, because the bottle(s) have been leaking through the bottom ever since I took them out of the packaging.  Just the other day I moved the bottle of Sawyer I'm using and it left a mark of repellent on the counter.  I pressed down on the bottle like it was a stamp and it left this soft but noticeable ring of bug spray every time.  I don't know if it's a bad bottle or if the picaridin or the bug spray formula is so corrosive it can leak through plastic, but that is far from ideal.  And I haven't even used the second bottle yet.

It's good, and yet, use at your own risk.

Maybe The Last Best Cheap Motel In The World

I may have blog posted about this before, but I have now become deathly afraid of renting a hotel because when I research specific ones on Yelp, I only see horrible reviews about how the person found, like, bedbugs in his or her room.  I now am deathly afraid that every single hotel room in the world has bedbugs.

So, when I got into mine last/Saturday night, I did what I could to check for bedbugs.  I don't know every single thing you could do, but I remembered to pull up the bedsheets at the corners to see blood marks or, egad, bugs themselves.  I did not.  Therefore, I feel comfortable (enough) to say that there are no bedbugs in this room I'm in for the new several days.  Phew.

Combine that with the fact that apparently there is a person at the front desk 24/7, and the person who checked me at the front desk last/Saturday night is the same person who I talked to while I was at MSP to make sure someone would be at the front desk when I get there late, and I am, so far, very impressed with this hotel ... and glad that I chose this one, as remote from STL as it is.  There are three more days for things and people to disappoint me, but so far, very, very good.  Glad I used all my credit card points for this hotel.

Ice-Out (A Harbinger Of Things To Come?)

I ran outside late Tuesday night (well, technically yesterday/Wednesday morning) to check the front yard, and it looks as though all the snow has melted from it.  I'm sure it melted over the course of the day on Tuesday, so ice out for 2023-4 is January 30.

Damn, January 30.  Sure, it may be premature to say that that sign of winter is done with for the season.  But really, this is the winter that isn't.  I think it got into the fifties on Tuesday, and that's how the tiny crusts of snow that pock-marked the front yard were finally eliminated.  We got into the fifties yesterday/Wednesday as well, and we obliterated the all-time high temperature for January 31 by, I think, eight degrees.  There was a week-and-a-half in the middle of January where it was seasonably cold, and even below average.  But really, besides that, it has been warm all winter, and most of the time way, way warm.

This isn't normal.  It may be, however, what our normal will be.  I have heard on more than one occasion that our climate will soon be like how winters in southern Iowa are now.  There is a school of thought that pretty soon our winters will be like what it is in Kansas City now.  I think there is a geographic and cultural benefit to being considered the icebox of the United States.  I also think that we have it great in Minnesota because our winters keep out the pussies.  We are going to lose that, the way things are going.  I have this primordial fear that it's going to be warm enough all-year-round for fire ants to live here.  I don't think that's outlandish.

But a lot of others are greeting our, uh, spring with trepidation, if not full-blown panic, and I'm not going there.  Yes, I think this is a clear sign of climate change.  And yet I selfishly am thinking about all the goddamn snow we got last year, the repeated times I have had to fire up the snowblower to clear the driveway (haven't had to use the blower once yet), and the oppression I felt -- "My God, when will this winter end?!"  And this year, winter hasn't really started.  And honestly, I don't mind it.

This Has Been A Very Good Weather Weekend

It's my kind of weather -- overcast, not hot nor humid.  Daytime highs have been above freezing today and yesterday -- and I think Friday and Thursday, too.  It could be ten or even 20 degrees warmer, and it has been raining so it could be less damp.  But hey, at least it isn't 19 degrees (feeling like only 7 above) with snow on the ground, which it was on this date last year.

What it has felt like this weekend is fall-like, what you typically expect in November, even October.  I took a walk after my first taste test yesterday/Saturday afternoon because I wanted to enjoy the cloudy weather (and totally avoid catching the end of the Vikings Game, which, of course, they lost).  There are new signs along 694 indicating a Mississippi River recreation area that is close by, and I decided to take the county up on its advertising by finally driving down there exploring the trails around there for half an hour.  Don't know why some of the parking lots and trails are closed to driving through, but I managed to get some exercise in while trying to quiet my mind and stay in the moment.  When you look up to the sky and see clouds and no overpowering sun, and you're not bothered by shivering, sweating (well, at least not too much sweating, I was walking), insects or slipping and falling on ice ... man, how can I complain?

Sorry, Green Insect

A green insect hopped on to me after driving home from DQ (went to the library first to do some stock stuff for my parents -- after stopping by the gas station for a black cherry Pepsi).  Second one that hopped on to me.  Don't know what happened to the first, but I allowed it to stow away as I drove off.

This second one stayed on my finger.  I took a long time to attempt to coax it on to the hood of my car, and then the garbage bin, any place besides me, but no dice.  Finally, I got it to hop on to a leaf.  I thought it was going to be OK, but at first he had trouble getting all its feet on to the leaf; either it was afraid or it got caught on something.

Then, inexplicably, it swung underneath the leaf.  At first I thought it meant to do that, but then I feared that it felt it was too heavy for the leaf it was on and keeled under.  I tried saving it with the temple of my sunglasses, but it didn't take.  Finally, I bent down to look underneath the leaf.  And it wasn't there.

Probably fell to its death.  Tried searching for it on the ground, though, but I couldn't see anything green down there.  No, I didn't look all that hard.  But I still feel bad.  Should have chosen a leaf closer to the ground, or the ground itself.  Or, considering its probably fate, I should've done what most people did and killed it myself.  Don't know how cruel that would be from what probably happened to it

Sorry, green insect.

I Got Free Food, And Now I Might Die Of Rabies

Weird things happened last night.  After the early show for Booker T. Jones at the Dakota passed, I finally mustered up the energy to do what I planned to do, which was work out at the community center for the first time in weeks.  I got out of the house a little late, but I still thought I would get in a good period of exercise.

I was going to take the trash out before I went.  I open the front and then the screen door, and then I see Domino's on my stoop.  Two boxes: The bigger being a pizza, the smaller, rectangular one being those "Loaded Tots" I think the company recently introduced.  They were cold, which means the delivery driver delivered them to me, obviously by mistake, after I got home a bit past 4 but before I was out the door at 7.  But I didn't hear the doorbell ring or a knock on the door, so even though there may have been a no-contact policy the driver followed, there's a non-zero chance some stranger just laid that food at my front door.

Still, the overwhelming probability is that this was just a driver dropping food off at the wrong address.  In which case -- hell yeah, free food!  But then I thought I shouldn't jump to that conclusion so fast.  I thought that if this was a mistaken address, the house that made the order probably is a neighbor.  If that's the case, maybe I shouldn't be so hasty in taking the food.  It isn't mine; I didn't order it.  So after a quick thought or two, I decided that I was going to leave the pizza and Loaded Tots out on the stoop.  If Domino's came back to pick it up, or if this neighbor to whom those rightfully belong went out on a search, the food would be there for them to retrieve.  And if I came back and saw those boxes still there -- well, that would be proof my neighborhood is still relatively safe and neighborly, and it would also mean I can take the food.

I didn't think about any other living creatures getting to the food first until it was way too late and I was sweating through my clothes.  At work on Friday I saw a line of ants savaging some crumb of food on the floor -- why in the hell wouldn't they go after the pizza and the tots??  I felt so stupid.  So, after changing back and using a discount for gasoline on my app that was going to expire at midnight, I got home and saw the boxes still there.  But then I noticed a chunk of the cold, gloopy Loaded Tots on the walkway, and then another.  And then I saw the small, rectangular box not exactly in the position I left it at.  And it was ajar.  I opened it and I saw, like, four or five cold tots with the now solid cheese and maybe it was bacon attached to them.  So maybe ants didn't get to it, but a squirrel did, and even though I don't think squirrels have opposable thumbs, the squirrel knocked it over and/or pushed it open to get into it.  And judging by the food that was spilled all over my pavement, it probably took a couple bites and recoiled at the coldness of the Loaded Tots, how rich in calories it was, or both, and said it had enough.

And you know what my thought was?  Damn, I wish I could have tried those Loaded Tots!  But there were four or five of them left in the box.  That meant the squirrel ate all the ones it tossed out of the box and left these alone -- right?  So I -- and don't judge me -- ate those Loaded Tots left in the box.  And they were ... cold.  And like all the loaded tots I've eaten from other places before.  And then I had this image of the squirrel eating and touching the tots I just ate as well as the tots touching those tots.  And then I thought about whether I can get sick from food with the saliva from a squirrel -- or, even more viscerally, from food that got in contact with a squirrel.  Can you get rabies from that?

And so ever since I ate those tots I've felt a bit ... queasy.  It might be from eating those cold, or it might be because that food was left out for more than two hours before refrigeration.  But if I wake up in the morning running a fever or suffering from seizures, it has to be squirrel rabies.  And in that case, regard me as a cautionary tale: Don't ever eat food that was ransacked by a squirrel.

Addendum To: Damn Box Elders (Sub-Title: And You Will Know Me By The Trail Of Dead)

So the day after I sprayed my front door and some of the front windows with that bug spray, after I got back from work, I saw a litter of dead box elders sitting at the foot of the front door.  All of them.  Dead.  There were some living box elders, though, and I guess they wandered in from somewhere.  I guess all those carcasses didn't deter those living insects from moseying onto the front door.

After I got home on Wednesday (I believe), I used the spray at the side of my house, specifically the south side, the side that gets the sun in the afternoon.  That spot, in particular the south-west side (the south-east side is sort of shaded by trees in my backyard and the backyard of my neighbors), gets riven with box elders in the fall, in particular the window in that south-west side, the one that's in Father's computer room.  They're damn everywhere, and once I chose violence with the box elders at the front door, I decided I might as well continue my bloodthirsty rampage by spraying down the side of my house.

There apparently is a hole, or a slit, underneath the sill of that window in the south-west side.  I made a point of spraying at that opening, just in case they're hiding back there despite the cloudy and cool weather.  I sprayed the other window on that side, the one closer to the south-east side of my house, but then came back to look, just in case.  And there, somehow, I saw a dozen and possibly many more box elders suddenly there, probably coming out from that opening, jittery from the killer bug spray.  Some stumbled to the concrete ground while others flipped over, their nervous system shutting down and taking them down with it.  It was carnage, and it was excellent.

Hope those damn box elders fear me now.  OK, probably not, they're just insects.  But I feel powerful!

Damn Box Elders

I know that they are harmless.  But they're out in force with the warm weather we're having relative to the time of year.  And in the afternoon, the front of my house faces the sound, and so that side of the house warms up, and that attracts the box elders.

There were at least dozen, and probably more, of those cringey things on my front screen door.  I was going to live and let live, but apparently one of those suckers hitched a ride on my shirt.  When I picked my shirt up from the stair after putting it down so I could put other things in my hands away, there was that stowaway hiding under the lip of the stair.

That's when I had enough.  I found some bug killer downstairs, went up to my screen door, and started spraying.  And then, in a move reminiscent of salting the earth, I started spraying down the front of my house, especially around the window frames, just in case they want to come in.  They're flat, so they don't need much of a hole to shimmy through.

And I found two box elders on my side of the front door once I went back inside.  One of them may have been that stowaway, and it wasn't moving.  The other seemed to have crawled along the floor to get inside, but it was spasming like it was slowly dying.  I swept both up and threw them in the garbage.  Hope the bug spray got more of them, and I hope the rest stay away because I sprayed down the house.

The Dangers To Dining Al Fresco

As I was doing some midnight chores -- cleaning dishes, going through receipts -- my right arm started to itch.  Really badly.  That's what I get for dining outdoors.

I am/was scheduled for second shift yesterday (Monday) and today (Tuesday).  Since I had a large chunk of my afternoons off, I decided that for yesterday/Monday I would eat at Centro, a real good Mexican place not too far from where I live.  I have dined there several times.  I consider it the closest place to me that is 1) well regarded among serious foodies and 2) open weekday afternoons.  I love Centro; their tacos are real good, they have a knockoff Taco Bell Crunchwrap that obviously is miles better than that fast food place, and I always have a good drink to calm me down on an ideal afternoon.

For all but one of the times I've been to Centro, I have dined outdoors.  I usually hate eating outdoors.  The wind blows away my napkins and there's a high probability insects will, well, bug me (like they did yesterday).  Worst-case scenario: I get eaten alive by mosquitos.  That happened one summer night when eating ice cream at a patio.  But Centro's outdoor patio, I think, looks cool; it's outside the front door, and while it faces railroad tracks (I drove through those tracks once and blew out a tire -- did I blog post about it?), I think that scene looks way cool.  And also, of course, there is the pandemic, where eating outside apparently is vastly safer than dining indoors.

That was the calculus baked into my thinking when I sat outside and ordered.  Since I got there just after it opened, there was only one other group eating al fresco, and they were more than sufficiently distanced from me.  I usually get Centro's lunch special (two tacos and chips & salsa), but I got a rice bowl and their knockoff Crunchwrap, both of whom were tasty.  The frozen mescal was great, too.  But a usual annoyance came back, reminding me of a big downside to eating outside: The damn sun bearing down on me while I eat.  It started to hurt the last time I ate outside at Centro, and it hurt this time around, too.  It was baking my skin, to the point where my skin started to itch.  All I could think of is the radiation poisoning me -- the consequences of which I felt last night.

I put some Aquaphor on my right arm (that's where I felt the burn) before going to bed.  I feel good now.  But I have to wonder if it's worth eating outside at Centro again.  Maybe I have to put sunscreen on me before I do the next time I decide to eat there.  Or, maybe I'll wait until the fall.  I ate outside on a day either barely going into or just getting out of last winter.  The server looked at me funny, but the patio was open (I called ahead to check) and even though it was fairly cold, I didn't get COVID then!

Bad Food And Drink

I got hit with the grocery shopping bug Monday night, when I had the jalopy loaner car.  I went to Cub Foods because (well, among other things) I wanted to broaden my cocktails.  I decided to buy cranberry juice because I thought that it could double as another non-alcoholic drink I could, uh, drink if I didn't want alcohol.

Bad decision.  I was thirsty Tuesday night and reached for the cranberry juice, and the damn thing is blood-colored swill.  Now, only after perusing the juice aisle that I saw that not all cranberry juices are alike.  There is cranberry juice "cocktail" and cranberry juice "blend," both of which add other stuff like sugar and apple juice.  I didn't want those because I think the cranberry juice required in cocktails like the cape codder and the cosmopolitan has to be pure cranberries with nothing added.  Well, after taking several sips, I see why sugar and apple juice needs to be added, because pure and unadulterated cranberry juice is just about undrinkable.  And I bought 32 fluid ounces of it.  Hope it tastes better in a cocktail.

Around the same time I drank the cranberry juice -- which was after work, by the way -- I also had cereal.  I had my lactose-free milk, and I used two boxes of generic cereals my parents bought.  One looked bland, so I thought I would even that out by combining that with a cereal that looked extremely sugary.  Big mistake.  I don't know if I ever had bad cereal before (there was one time when I was really young that in my Rice Krispies I saw an insect that was long, very tiny, and had a lot of legs), but damn, this was it.  Each cereal seemed to bring out the worst in each other; the friggin' bowl of cereal managed to be both bland and sugary.

I don't remember any time in my life when I consumed back-to-back things that were so terrible they were inedible.  Made some stupid bad choices when it came to what I put in my mouth.

Killed A Bug Sunday

Not intentionally.  At work.  I was taking one final leak before leaving for the day, and I saw this insect hobbling around on the floor.  It looked like it had only wing as it was veering back and forth, and it seemed to have stumbled into the caulk groove inbetween the tiles.

I noticed it, then proceeded to sit down to pee.  But then I got up.  Work now offers bottles full of disinfectant so our bums don't have to pick up the germs of other bums.  I was sort of in a rush to leave, but even though the pandemic seems to be receding in our rearview mirror, I thought it'd make sense to spray down the toilet seat and handle.  That bottle was on the other side of the bathroom, next to the sink, so I had to walk with my pants down in order to get it.

I took two steps and then I stopped.  "Wait," I thought to myself, "... did I ... just ... ?"  I got the bottle, duck-walked back and stooped down to where I thought it was ... and it was still there ... but in much, much worse shape.  It was now writhing in one spot, rolling back and forth because I crushed whatever little forward mobility it still had.

It was in my twenties when I started to realize that being dead oftentimes is better than being alive but in such a handicapped state that it's not worth it to live.  And if you caught me on a different day, I would have said a little prayer for it, peed, washed my hands and left it to die.  But this time around I went back to the other side of the bathroom, ripped off a piece of towel, pinched the little bugger up and disposed of it in the trash.  Maybe it was better not to allow its misery to be prolonged.  Or, maybe I didn't "do the merciful thing" for the insect but for me.  Or, maybe I should have just not stepped on the insect in the first damn place.

Yeah, I know I have probably inadvertently stepped on ants in my life.  But I'd like to think I can avoid killing insects I had just observed ten seconds before.  And yeah, I probably won't even remember committing murder on one of God's creatures by the end of the week.  But it's been two days and I still haven't let it go.

Road Trip, Part III (Wyoming -- Sub-Part A)

This was, my goodness, six years ago, so I should get on this:

• So we left this gorgeous, palatial room after one day.  I wish we could have stayed longer, but Yellowstone was big enough whereby we wanted to get from the eastern side of the park to the western, just to make the next leg of our journey that much closer to get to.  Besides, there were only two beds and my parents took one and my sister took the other.  I guess I could have slept in the same bed as my sis, but I think it was less icky that I slept on the floor in between the two beds.  Just a day before I typed this particular bullet point I looked up whether sleeping on the floor is bad for you, and it turns out (at least according to the two websites I looked at) it actually is good for you.  Go figure.
• Since it's been so long I think I'm going to be skimpy on the details because they're not clear in my mind.  What I do remember, however, is that we spent two days at Yellowstone.  I think -- I think -- we went to see Yellowstone Falls on this first day, which was cool.  Did a lot of hiking.  Does a body good.
• Since the next day we were on our way out of Yellowstone some time in the afternoon, I'm almost certain this was the day we saw Old Faithful.  The reliability of the geyser -- at least in terms of location -- allowed the area to frame it as if it were a fountain.  There were seats around the mouth of Old Faithful, and there was an office with park rangers staffed to assist.  There was also a made-up sign estimating the next time it was going to blow.  Now I learned in school that the geyser would erupt strictly at every, like 48 minutes.  Guess Mother Nature is on her own timetable.  In fact, Old Faithful was not faithful; not only did it not go off at the estimated time, but I think we had to wait another half-hour before she blew.  Interesting to watch, but I'm glad I didn't get sprayed like we were at a dolphin show.  I am glad to cross that off my bucket list.
• In the early evening we had a picnic dinner.  The five of us were able to find a table next to a bluff, and we ate stuff Mother bought from the store -- baguette sandwiches with deli meats and cheese and pate, too, maybe?  No fighting amongst the family, thankfully.  But I had to break away for a bit anyway; the view of the reddening, setting sun from our vantage point was breathtaking.  I was filled with peace, I kid you not.
• I think that was it for our first day at Yellowstone.  After we got done eating, we drove to the most rustic of the hotels we would be staying at for our road trip.  It was an actual dude ranch with a horse in a pen in the middle of it.  (Wished I had enough time to ride it.  Wish that horse is being treated well.)  Since the area was mostly grassland, the gnats and flies were out in force.  They swarmed us as soon as we opened our doors, and everybody, especially Mother and my sister, were screaming as they fled to the building where check-in was.  I, I must say, did not run, nor did I have to.  I had the foresight, just before we got into the car to leave Yellowstone, to drench myself in bug spray.  Those damn insects came after the rest of my family, but not me.  Score one for me.
• Once we got into the front office, we stepped forward in time from the, like, 1800's to the modern day.  The inside looked like a small hotel.  There were even computers for guests to use.  Unfortunately I could not use them after a certain time; I wanted to slip back in to check my e-mail at, oh, 10 at night, and as I opened the door I saw the staff had a meeting.  And they were closed for the night.  Whoops.
• The rooms were cabins.  My parents stayed in one, my sister and I in the other.  First, though, we had an, uh, extra dinner at their cabin.  There wasn't much when it came to tables, so we sat on the floor.  There were no TVs either -- made me gasp at first, but hey, this is a ranch.
• Otherwise, the cabins were modern.  The bathroom looked like a modern bathroom, and we had running water and stuff, don't get me wrong.  My sister and I had bunk beds.  My sister is afraid of heights, so she took the bottom one.  The ladder was a little shaky as I climbed it, but even though I don't remember the last time I slept in a bunk bed, if ever, it was a most refreshing rest.  The bed, the big sky night, the exhausting but fulfilling day, the communing with nature, spending positive time with my family ... I slept with happiness and gratitude.

Addendum To: Haven't Showered In A Week, Woo-Hoo!!!

So I finally showered last (Sunday) night.  That made it, what, eight, nine days inbetween showers?  Had to: I planned on mowing the lawn, and I didn't want to get bit by mosquitoes, so I put on gloves and a long shirt, but then the sun came out and it was really hot, and then the lawnmower didn't work, so I thought it was a sign not to mow and instead just watch football all day.  But then a guy from the alumni club asked for the sweater he left at the bar (which I picked up), and after I dropped it off I decided it was a good idea to buy the sparkplug for the mower on the way back.  That meant that I was going to mow, but I didn't want to get overheated again, so I wore just a t-shirt, but that necessitated me putting on bug spray.  (The lawnmower didn't work, by the way; will have to get to the bottom of that.)  So I had to finally wash all that off of my body -- hence, the shower.

You know, when I was in college, one evening I was hanging out with this dude I was in the same class with.  He was strange.  At one point that night he told me he didn't shower daily because at some point the body adapts and starts to clean itself.  I swear that's what he said.  And I swear that the reason I don't shower more than once a week is not because I believe that weirdo.

Nevertheless it feels good to scratch my head and not 1) scrape up dandruff into my nails and 2) see the rest of the dandruff fall to the floor in a blizzard.  Next time won't be a week from now; my nails are really long, so I have to cut them soon, which means I am going to have to shower pretty soon so I can trim my softened nails right after.

I ate a banana Father bought at Sam's Club.  He bought a whole damn case of bananas.  Why?  Because it was on sale.  My parents are always penny-wise bout pound-foolish when it comes to food.  And so now I am on a steady banana lunch diet.

Just ate the one I grabbed this morning, and for some damn reason there were little red spots in the banana.  I don't know what that is.  Is it mold?  Is it fungus?  Is it an insect?  I did all I could to cut and scrape those areas off of the banana, but I know I ate some of those spots.

So, if I die, and this is the last blog post I write, you'll know how I died.  Maybe.

Darn Mosquitoes In The Fall

So I went out to the U. women's soccer team's game against Penn St. Friday (1-all draw, BTW).  Because it was packed -- it was Dollar Seat Night -- I decided to eschew the crowds and walk to the other side of the pitch to watch the game.  It was the Student Section, and since I had a student ID, I got in and could watch the game standing up from there.  More U. students filtered in throughout the match and so my vantage point got more obscured, but I still managed to enjoy the night.

Somewhat.  I should have remembered that mosquitoes love to hang out on grass.  Add that it was an unseasonably hot day, reaching a high of 84 degrees (though not humid, necessarily), and they were out in droves, feasting on me like a pig in a luau, for Christ sake.  I think I got bit at least a dozen times, and although I tried to resist, I finally couldn't help it and scratched all over my arms, hands, legs, and even my butt.  I now have bumps everywhere, and it's uncomfortable.

Wished I had the foresight to bring bug spray with me.

Oh Great, Wasps

This just frightened the shit out of me.  I got home yesterday, went to open my bedroom window, and saw this mass up on the window.  In case I haven't written about it, one half of the window, or a screen, or something, it broke and fell out of the house over the autumn.  That means that, presumably, the window opens to the outside.  I guess it already does, but there is no screen, which means large things, such as insects, can come inside.  Also, the things insects bring can come inside, too.  Lots of things.

Lots of things such as a nest.  See, at first I thought it was a small nest that was attached to the top side of my window.  But as looked closer, I saw that this wasn't a bird nest, with straws neatly laid on top of each other.  No, I saw hexagons lined up together.  And then I saw the hornets.

Well, OK, not hornets.  I am guessing these are wasps, paper wasps, and they found the underside of my open window a great place to begin forming a nest.  I don't know how long it's been there, but I know I saw at least one wasp that I eventually found dead in my room a couple weeks back.  I assume it's recent because, my God, there were several wasps on this nest, and I think that if they've been there for some time, I would have seen them in my room.  Also, on Monday (or was it Sunday?) night I got three bites on my feet.  I think they are mosquito bites because I think I would have seen a wasp if they were wasp bites, but I don't know for sure.

At any rate, I didn't know what the hell to do.  So I went to the U. entomology page and other pages on the Internet, and they said that bug spray should kill the nest.  So, before coming home, I'm going to Target and get some bug spray, and then, late at night, I will open up the window and murder them.

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But until then?  The window can't be open until I get home.  Yet I am absolutely scared that My Fucking Father is going to yell at me for not doing something about the wasp nest.  And on top of that I know he's going to fucking meddle over my room.  So, what to do?

I thought about just keeping the window closed and hoping he wouldn't fucking walk in my room and open the window.  But I assumed he would.  So, I grabbed a Post-It note and wrote "DON'T OPEN" and stuck it on the window.  And I immediately regretted it.  I am scared that My Fucking Father would go into my room, look at my note on the window, then wait for me to come home and yell at me for being lazy and not doing something about a nest that obviously anyone would have seen as soon as the first piece of nest was nailed to the window.  Or, even worse, he would look at the note, find the nest, and take it upon himself to kill the nest himself, and he would do it in the middle of the day when the wasps are awake and they'll start stinging the shit out of him.  So when I finally get home with the bug spray, My Fucking Father, bites all over his goddamn face, will start screaming at me, "Your room is so dirty, bees like to build nests in your room!  Clean your room!!!"  And then I'll tell him that I just discovered the nest in the morning (even though I saw it yesterday evening, whatever), and then I'll start yelling back at him, "Well, if you would get my goddamn window fixed the wasps wouldn't get into my window, you fucking lazy asshole!"  And maybe the argument will get so bad that the roadtrip is off.

So let's see what happens tonight.